


Price of Admission

by SparkleInTheStars



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Extended Scene, Historical, M/M, Missing Scene, Oral Sex, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23565814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleInTheStars/pseuds/SparkleInTheStars
Summary: Aziraphale thanks Crowley for making Hamlet a success and ends up admitting the desires he’s been suppressing.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 144
Collections: Love And Lust Through The Ages





	Price of Admission

**Author's Note:**

> This story appeared in the bonus edition of the Love and Lust Through The Ages Zine.
> 
> Thank you as always to my beta, exspecialagentstarling!

Aziraphale scanned the crowd for Crowley. It had been a month since he'd lost the coin toss for Edinburgh and Crowley had agreed to make  _ Hamlet _ a success. Scotland hadn't gone quite as planned, the blessing had gone a bit awry and the temptation to steal sheep had gone a bit too well and the man had stolen sheep from three other clan leaders since. Crowley appeared to have been quite successful in his endeavor given the size of the crowd jostling for a glimpse of the stage. Not since  _ Romeo and Juliet _ could Aziraphale recall having seen such a large crowd at the Globe.

A note had been waiting for Aziraphale when he'd returned from Edinburgh in Crowley's familiar scrawl. He'd proposed a meet up so Aziraphale could admire his handiwork. Eagerly he'd set off for the theatre. Aziraphale tried to tell himself it was the play that had his heart racing as he made his way to the Globe, but it was thoughts of the red haired demon that filled his mind, not Hamlet avenging his father's death. Ever since their last meeting Crowley had occupied Aziraphale's thoughts.

Although the demon had sighed dramatically when he agreed to make the play a success, he also hadn’t hesitated for even a moment. The indulgent smile that disappeared as quickly as it appeared had lingered in Aziraphale's mind. Crowley never hesitated to indulge the angel's whims. Pouts were met with a hint of a smile and a demonic miracle to give Aziraphale whatever his heart desired in that moment. Demons were supposed to be selfish and yet Crowley gave to him without hesitation, time and again.

On the one hand it was delightful that Crowley was kind and gave Aziraphale what he wished. But sometimes late at night when the human world fell silent, the angel would wonder what the demon would like and imagined Crowley demanding things in return. Aziraphale's cheeks flushed whenever he thought of them. An angel wasn't supposed to think of matters of the flesh, but lately his thoughts had been turning to fantasies of Crowley's flesh more and more often. Blankly, Aziraphale stared at the stage, oblivious to the darkly clad figure approaching behind him.

"Enjoying the show?" Crowley whispered sibilantly in Aziraphale's ear.

A shiver ran down Aziraphale's spine as he registered the demon's voice. The sandalwood scent that seemed to cling to Crowley since Eden perfumed the air around him and Aziraphale could feel the nearness of the demon.

"Crowley," he acknowledged without turning around, his voice slightly breathless.

Nearby a pair of intoxicated humans broke out into fisticuffs and as the crowd moved to give them space, Aziraphale lost his balance and fell back against Crowley. The demon's arms wrapped around him and drew the angel against him. Although it was only for a moment to steady him, Aziraphale felt as if the touch had been etched into his flesh. It sent an almost electric thrill through him and he felt a sense of loss when Crowley withdrew his arms.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, although the play seems to be on hold," Aziraphale said as several more humans joined the fighting.

"In that case, can I interest you in a drink? I've got rooms at a nearby pub."

Aziraphale nodded and followed Crowley through the crowd and out into the street. The pub was only a few blocks away and they made their way there quickly, courtesy of a series of demonic miracles. Crowley snapped to keep pickpockets away and to move horse droppings from their path and into the paths of other less fortunate souls.

"We can get a table or-" Crowley hesitated.

"Or go up to your rooms," the angel suggested. An eyebrow shot up over the demon's glasses and Aziraphale added. "So we won't be observed."

"I see. Very well, I'll get a couple bottles and we can head up. It's the third door on the left."

Crowley pressed a key into Aziraphale's hand and walked towards the bar. The key felt heavy in Aziraphale's hand as he made his way to the staircase. There were several empty tables, he had only to take a seat at one and return the key to avoid being alone with Crowley. However he found himself walking upstairs and unlocking Crowley's door instead.

***

Standing at the door with three wine bottles in his arms, Crowley hesitated at the door. Something was off with Aziraphale. He'd only seen the angel briefly at the theatre, but there was a nervousness about the angel that hadn't been there before. For a brief moment Crowley thought he'd detected  _ lust _ , but in the crowded theatre where humans were planning dalliances and occasionally groping one another in the open, he'd assumed the lust was from the mortals. But as they'd walked through the streets of London, lust had clung to Aziraphale.

Ever since Eden, Crowley had occasionally felt brief flares of lust from Aziraphale that disappeared almost instantaneously. Any feelings of desire were rapidly pushed aside and he couldn't imagine his angelic companion exploring them further. But now, there was a definite undercurrent of lust. Had something happened in Scotland?

As a demon, Crowley had seduced more than his fair share of humans, but they had never mattered to him. They were part and parcel with the job; a means to an end. Aziraphale, with his pure heart, wouldn't give himself to just anyone. If he desired someone, it had meaning. Was the angel about to confess an affair with a mortal? The thought weighed heavily on Crowley as he turned the knob and entered the room.

Aziraphale was seated on a narrow settee in the small parlor. As Crowley entered, he smiled at him and gestured at the seat next to him. The demon sat the bottles of wine down on a nearby table, opened a bottle, and poured the deep plum liquid into a couple of heavy glasses trimmed in gold. He'd seen the design in Venice last year and had miracled a set for his wine when he returned to England. Holding a glass out to Aziraphale, he took a seat next to him. The short settee kept them in closer proximity than the demon normally allowed himself to the angel, not that he minded. Since the day he met Aziraphale he'd wanted to hold him close.

The angel took a sip of wine, then sat his glass down and licked his lips nervously as he looked at Crowley. Tilting his head curiously, Crowley peered over his glasses at Aziraphale. He nearly dropped his wine glass when the angel reached out to trace his cheek with his fingertips down to his chin along the edge of the small stylish beard Crowley was sporting. It wasn't that they never touched, but the few times it was intentional, there was usually a lot more alcohol involved.

"You do so much for me, Crowley. I kept thinking about it when I was in Scotland. I knew you would make Hamlet a success because it's what I wanted. You always give me what I want."

"Cheated at the coin toss, angel," the demon informed him nervously and drained his wine glass before setting it aside.

"I know. You cheat every time, but strangely you seem to lose whenever a job is dangerous or truly unpleasant. I lose when it's something easy or mildly annoying. Not very demonic of you."

"Do you want to see demonic?" Crowley's voice had a slight edge and he pulled his glasses off, giving Aziraphale a menacing look.

"As a matter of fact, I think I would enjoy that very much."

"Aziraphale." The word was intended as a warning, but was laden with unspoken desire.

"Take from me Crowley, please. For once I want you to-"

Golden eyes blazing, the demon pulled his angelic companion close. "If I take from you, it won't be just the once. You're playing with fire, angel."

"I'm already burning. I need you. I-"

Crowley cut Aziraphale off with a kiss. His teeth were harsh and demanding as they nipped at Aziraphale’s lower lip. It was a kiss sealing an unspoken claim that they'd both known was there from their first meeting. An act of possession that elicited a moan of desire from Aziraphale. When Crowley finally pulled his mouth from Aziraphale's, the angel smiled dazedly at him.

"Is this what you want, angel?"

***

Aziraphale reached out and rubbed his hand over Crowley's erection that was straining the velvet fabric of his breeches. "Please let me touch you."

The demon's long fingers slid over the opening of his pants and his cock burst out. Pink flesh shind against the dull black velvet under Aziraphale's gaze. The angel reached out gingerly to caress Crowley's hardness. Aziraphale smiled as the demon's cock grew harder in his hand. He'd read a few books over the years and understood the clear liquid at the tip of Crowley's erection was a sign that things were going in the right direction.

Stroking the length of Crowley's shaft, Aziraphale blushed but said shyly, "I want to show you how much I appreciate you. Right now more than anything, I want to please you."

The gold of Crowley's eyes was giving way to the darkness of his pupils. He was, in his own way, as shocked by what Aziraphale was doing as the angel was to be doing it, but as he touched Crowley, the desire to please him became more intense. He didn't just want to please the demon, Aziraphale wanted to worship him with all the love in his heart.

Sliding to the floor, Aziraphale knelt and looked up at Crowley. He kissed the tip of the demon's cock tenderly. A book he read once mentioned a woman taking a man into her mouth. Parting his lips, Aziraphale took Crowley in his mouth almost reverently. The demon watched mesmerized and Aziraphale met his gaze as he slid his mouth over him.

As he explored, there was a slight saltiness and there was the faint scent of something primal that made Aziraphale want to continue devouring Crowley's arousal. In that moment there was nothing the angel wanted in his mouth more than the demon. Between Aziraphale's legs, he felt a tingling sensation, a building sense of need. The need was something he'd felt hints of before, but now as he knelt before Crowley and took his erection in his mouth, the angel's need seemed more overwhelming than he could ever recall before.

There were flickers of need deep in his abdomen; perhaps this was the fire Crowley had warned him about? It didn't matter though, all that existed for Aziraphale in that moment was Crowley. He was on his knees worshipping the demon and it felt so right. Every now and then Crowley's eyes would flutter for a moment. The demon reached out with one hand and gently caressed Aziraphale's hair as the angel moved his mouth up and down slowly.

A sudden flood of warmth filled Aziraphale's mouth and he swallowed instinctively. Crowley's cock softened slightly in the angel's mouth, then hardened once more. Aziraphale made a small sound of protest when Crowley gently took the sides of his face and pulled his mouth off. The demon stood and pulled the angel up against him. Crowley kissed Aziraphale and his hand found it's way inside Aziraphale's breeches.

"So wet," Crowley murmured approvingly and kissed the angel once more.

Aziraphale allowed the demon to lead him into the bedroom and press him against the bed. He felt light headed as Crowley undressed him and was grateful to be on his back. He'd never manifested an effort before and had produced a pussy that was juicy with a small aching clit and above it a short little cock that pulsed with need. Before Aziraphale had time to fully consider the possibilities of his first effort, Crowely's mouth moved between his thighs and his serpentine tongue started to explore.

Collapsing into a sea of sensation with only Crowely to anchor him, Aziraphale gave over to the pleasure. Aziraphale moaned with rapture as Crowley unleashed the sweetest torments with his mouth. The demon could take anything he pleased and Aziraphale would give it to him gladly. To indulge and be indulged, it was everything Aziraphale could ever ask for.


End file.
